Superfamily Christmas Countdown
by writteninstony
Summary: Counting down the days until Christmas superfamily style
1. Advent Calendar

A/N: Basically me and the co-owner of this account are going to (hopefully) write one Christmas-y superfamily prompt per day until Christmas (although somehow we're already running late but whatever). Review if you like it (or if you don't, I don't care, just give us some sort of feedback) Thanks :)

Day 1: Advent Calender

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A cool gust of early winter air blew out of the elevator and into Stark tower. The unexpected breeze made its way into the living room, which made Peter look up from where he was coloring in a Christmas tree picture. A wide, toothy smile spread across his young face. Steve Rogers walked into the room, bundled against the cold and carrying grocery bags in both arms. Before he had time to react, Peter had launched himself across the room towards his Pops, who laughed at his son's enthusiastic welcome. No matter what Peter did, he always managed to make Steve smile. Carrying the bags, and now with a six year old attached to his leg, Steve made his way into the kitchen.

After setting down his load, Steve stooped to pick up Peter. The young boy giggled joyously as his father lifted him into the air before bringing him back down into a hug. The large blonde kissed the top of Peter's head and set him on the ground, turning back to his purchases and rifling through the plastic bags.

"I got something for you while I was out, Pete!" Steve called over his shoulder.

The little boy ran over to Steve and looked in the bag as Steve picked up a cardboard Christmas tree with numbered doors on it. Curiosity got the better of him as Peter asked, "What is it?"

Steve led the boy back to the kitchen table and set the tree in front of Peter's chair. The child looked up at his father, who began to explain.

"It's called an advent calendar."

The energetic boy cut him off (a trait he surely picked up from Tony). "What's it for?"

"It helps you count down the days until Christmas." Steve explained patiently. "Every day this month, you get to open the door with the right number on it. And when you open the door..." he trailed off as he helped Peter find and open the door marked with the number one. The boy's brown eyes lit up as Steve pulled a small piece of chocolate out of the opening. "You get a treat! Do you think you can do it, Peter?"

Peter nodded solemnly. "I can do it, Pops! I'm a big boy."

Steve chuckled and ruffled his hair. "You sure are, Peter."

The first thing Steve noticed upon walking back into the living room was that the quiet chatter between Tony and Peter that had filled the silence in the house for at least an hour suddenly turned into conspiratorial whispers . Steve padded around to the front of the couch quietly, stopping in his tracks when he found his husband and son sprawled out on the floor staring up at him with guilty looks on their faces. For a second he didn't understand why, but he spotted the empty advent calendar between them and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It was Daddy's idea!" Peter said quickly, pointing a finger at Tony.

"Thanks for not ratting me out," Tony grumbled, shooting Peter a betrayed glance. "this is the last time I let you in on my awesome plans."

Steve shook his head. "I honestly don't know what I expected." he said, staring down disappointedly at the two boys. "Actually, that's a lie," he started again. " I would have expected this from you," he pointed at Tony, who gasped in mock offence. Steve just rolled his eyes before continuing. "but Peter..." he trailed off,

"I'm sorry Pops." Peter said. Steve really shouldn't have been the one feeling bad, but Peter stared up at him with huge puppy dog eyes, and the poor kid looked like he was about to cry real tears.

"It's fine Peter, just next time don't listen to Daddy when he tells you to do things you know you shouldn't, okay?"

"Okay" Peter said, and Steve crouched down to kiss him on the cheek.

"What, no kiss for me?" Tony asked, giving him the fakest hurt look Steve had ever seen. Steve didn't grant him a real response as he stood back up, only glared as Peter tugged on the hem of his sweater.

"Oh, and Pops?"

"Yes, Peter?" he answered, turning back around to face his son.

"I tried to save you a piece, but daddy ate it."

"Snitch!"


	2. Sweaters

A/N: Well, we're not quite sure how much this actually has to do with the prompt, but we hope you enjoy it!

Day 2 - Sweaters

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When Tony woke up, he was disappointed to see that Steve was already out of bed. His husband wasn't anywhere to be seen, but the bed was still warm where he had been laying, so the blonde couldn't have left too much earlier. The alarm clock on Steve's side of the large bed began chiming an annoyingly high-pitched note. Tony groaned and buried his face back into his pillow before reaching over and smacking the offending object to make it stop. When all was quiet again, Tony could hear the faint sound of the shower and Christmas music.

The shower turned off, and shortly after, a cloud of steam was released from the bathroom as Steve walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. The man's muscular chest still glistened with water droplets. Tony grinned mischievously. _And a very good morning to me! _

Unfortunately, Steve walked past the bed and made his way to the dresser, pulling out a pair of underwear and a white undershirt. After putting on the undergarments (much to Tony's dismay), Steve walked to the closet and added a pair of jeans and a christmas sweater to his outfit. Personally, Tony thought he had looked just fine in the towel, so, being the pain in the ass that he prided himself in being, he decided to protest.

"No, Steve, don't put clothes on!" he whined, sitting up in bed. "Why are you out of bed yet? It's only," he glanced at the clock. "Six o'clock!"

Noticing for the first time the chill in the air, he crossed his arms over his tee shirt and feigned violent shudders. "It's too cold."

He patted the bed next to him and said in a voice that was equal parts eager, seductive, and teasing, "We should just stay in bed all day."

Steve chuckled and moved around to Tony's side of the bed. The blonde man sat next to Tony, who scooted his legs over to make more room for him.

"Y'know Steve, as hot as you make that sweater look, imagine how much better it would look on the floor." Tony tried his hardest to make his husband stay, but it was getting difficult to concentrate as Steve's large hand moved onto his cheek. Unable to help himself anymore, Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips against Tony's. Tony immediately responded, trying to deepen the kiss. Steve laughed against his husband's desperate mouth and pulled back.

"I don't know what has you in such a good mood this morning, Tony, but I really wish you would pick a better day to do it." Steve stood up from the bed as Tony pouted.

"What do you have to do that's so important that you can't spare a couple, oh, hours or so for your husband?" Tony demanded.

Steve moved back to closet and grabbed a pair of shoes and socks as he responded. "Well, Tony, _someone_ has to take our son to school."

Tony rolled his eyes as Steve sat on the end of the bed. The brunette man crawled up behind Steve as he put on socks. Tony kissed Steve's neck before replying, "Peter's a smart kid. He doesn't _really_ need school." He threw in another kiss to the neck before adding, "Come back to bed."

Steve sat still for a minute, almost seeming to consider the idea. Tony silently cheered him on. Ultimately, however, the blonde stood up.

_God dammit_. Tony thought.

"As tempting as that offer is, Mr. Stark, I'm afraid our son's education has to take priority over what I want."

In a last ditch effort, Tony climbed off the bed and stood facing Steve, who (from the look in his eyes) knew what was coming. The shorter man reached up and pulled Steve's face to his, locking their lips. He pressed himself as closely to Steve as was physically possible as the other man wrapped his strong arms around his back. The christmas sweater on Steve's chest was soft to the touch. Tony's lips strayed from Steve's, making their way to his neck, kissing and pausing to nibble on his ear lobe.

"Tony…" Steve mumbled warningly. Tony pulled back, a triumphant grin on his face as he saw Steve's flushed cheeks. The brunette turned and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Don't you have to take Peter to school?" He asked cheekily.

Steve clearly looked frustrated as he took a deep breath. "Yeah."

As he made his way to the door, Steve turned back to Tony, who looked up at him innocently.

"You- just-" Steve struggled to find words. "Stay right there. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Tony smiled up at him seductively. "I'll be waiting."

Steve left the room reluctantly, and Tony chuckled to himself as he laid on his back on the bed, the feel of Steve and that damn sweater still on his hands.

The End


	3. Mall Parking Spot

A/N: sorry this prompt is ridiculously short, (and weird haha) the next one will hopefully be longer.. review if you feel like it :)

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Day 3- Mall Parking Spot

The first thing Tony noticed about the mall, was that he _hated_ the mall. It wasn't a mild dislike either, he full on _despised_ this shit. Maybe on a normal day it wouldn't have been so bad, but since it was Christmas, the mall was crammed full of people he honestly didn't feel like dealing with.

At least he assumed it was. Tony hadn't even seen the inside of the mall yet. For the past 20 minutes, he had been driving around the parking lot looking for somewhere to park his car. Yeah, Tony wanted to die.

He hadn't even wanted to go to the mall in the first place (obviously), but Steve had asked him with his stupid Steve-voice and his stupid Steve-face and fuck, Tony was _whipped_. Plus, the trip was to pick up presents for Peter, and Tony would be damned if his kid didn't have the best Christmas on the fucking planet.

Tony just wished the best Christmas on the fucking planet didn't involve the fucking mall. It wouldn't have been so bad if Steve was there, tolerable even, but Tony didn't even have his hottie husband to keep him company. Usually when they were alone in the car together, Steve drove, (because apparently Tony was "easily distracted") and Tony liked to play a little game he called "Get Captain America To Have Sex With Me In Public". (It never worked. Steve always went off on some rant about the media and public image, but it wasn't like Tony had never been caught doing it in the back seat before).

Tony was so consumed in his thoughts (fuck, maybe he was easily distracted), that he nearly missed a golden opportunity: an open parking space a few hundred feet ahead. He was just about to floor it when out of nowhere some _bitch_ in a blue minivan pulled into _his_ spot. Oh, hell no.

Tony had always had bad impulse control, so he considered it a Christmas miracle that he didn't accidentally on purpose slam his car into her face. He totally would have, but he figured Steve would be kind of pissed that he ruined someone's holiday. Instead, Tony opted for the good old middle finger out the window, flipping the middle-aged woman off as he skidded around the corner.

"Fuck this," Tony mumbled to himself as he sped toward the exit. "Next time I'm taking the suit."


	4. Santa

A/N: here's day 4! hope you enjoy :)

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Day 4- Santa

"So Peter, what do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?" Steve asked his son as sat down to eat breakfast. He and Tony had already done most of their Christmas shopping, but Steve wanted to be sure Peter got what he wanted. When he was growing up he was lucky to get a piece of fruit or a candy bar for Christmas, and even though he wanted to instill the value of appreciation in his boy, he couldn't help but to spoil him, since he had the means.

"I can't tell _you_!" Peter exclaimed, mouth full of Cocoa Krispies (the kid got his taste in cereal from Tony, that's for sure).

"Well why not?" Steve replied, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"If I tell you, he won't bring me anything." Peter said, as if it were the most obvious thing on the world. "Like birthday wishes."

Steve tried to hide his smile at his son's logic; Peter certainly had a unique way of thinking.

"Why don't you mail him a letter then? I promise I won't peek."

"Come on Pops, no one actually mails things anymore."

Steve couldn't resist a chuckle at that one, because Peter had clearly been spending too much time with Tony lately.

"How's Santa going to find out what you want then?" Steve was genuinely curious as to how his son expected Santa to figure out his wish list.

"Well... Peter started, and Steve recognized that tone of voice. Peter didn't ask for much, so when he really wanted something, Steve could tell.

"Yes?" Steve urged him on.

"I saw Santa was going to be at the mall all month! Do you think we can go see him so I can tell him my list?"

"Sure thing buddy." Steve smiled, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Today?" Peter asked eagerly, eyes bright.

"Of course! Do you want to go see if Daddy wants to come with us?"

"Yeah!" Peter jumped up from his chair and sprinted towards the elevator before turning back around. "Are you coming?"

"Right behind you Pete" Steve said, picking up the dishes off the table and putting them in the sink before following Peter.

Tony had been in the lab since the night before. Steve wasn't exactly pleased that Tony had spent the night in his workshop, but he also knew that if he didn't let Tony pull an all-nighter once in a while, bad things happened, and as much as Steve hated sleeping alone, he hated dealing with a bitter, bitchy Tony even more.

When Peter and Steve got down to the lab, the first thing Steve noticed was that it was eerily quiet: no loud music or metal hitting metal, just silence. They walked in the unlocked door, and Steve spotted Tony hunched over a desk on the far side of the room. As he got closer, Steve realized why the lab seemed so dead- Tony had fallen asleep (so much for an all-nighter). Steve glanced down at Peter, placing a finger to his lips and whispering "Shh. Don't scare him"

Peter stayed quiet, instead launching himself into Tony's lap. Tony jumped a little, although not as much as Steve expected him to.

"What the- oh hey buddy." Tony mumbled, realizing who was sitting on top of him. He gave Peter a quick kiss on the forehead before rubbing the sleep from his eyes, accidentally smudging a bit of grease on his forehead. Tony rested his chin on top of Peter's head, staring into space for a second before noticing Steve.

"Hey, how come I didn't get you in my lap on this fine morning?" Tony asked, voice still groggy, and Steve couldn't stop himself from placing a chaste kiss on his husband's lips.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn't want to break you." Steve said with a smirk. Tony scoffed, but Steve continued on. "Plus Peter's got something he wants to ask you."

"Oh yeah?" Tony asked, looking Peter in the eyes and tapping him on the nose, making the boy giggle. "And what would that be?"

"Me and Pops are going to the mall to see Santa! Do you wanna come with us?"

Tony stared at Peter skeptically for a second, as if he was trying to process what Peter had said.

"Santa?" he questioned after a moment. "Why would you want to go see Santa? Santa isn-" Tony caught the pointed glare Steve was giving him and immediately changed course "Santa is _super_ busy this time of year. Do you really want to keep him from getting his job done?"

"But how- you just don't want to go, do you?" A sad understanding took over Peter's face, and Steve didn't even have to reprimand Tony for hurting their sons' feelings; the man was already going back on his words.

"Hey, no, of course I'll go with you. I just need to get ready. So do you, you can't go see Santa Claus in your pajamas, can you?"

Peter's face lit up again. "You're right! I should go get dressed!" Peter climbed off of Tony's lap and scampered off. As soon as Peter was out of sight, Tony stood up, letting out a sigh and pulling Steve into a hug.

"I know you don't like the mall, but you're going to make Peter very happy." Steve said softly.

"I know, it's not even about the mall, Steve, it's just..." Tony trailed off, and pulled away from the hug. " I should go get dressed."

"You should go take a shower." Steve said, rubbing a thumb over the grease smeared on Tony's forehead.

"Care to join me?" Tony smirked, winking at Steve and trailing a finger down his spine.

"Later." Steve growled, placing a kiss on Tony's jaw.

"And they say I'm the tease."

"I hate Santa." Tony whispered harshly into Steve's ear. They had been waiting in line to see the man for less than 15 minutes, but Tony was already getting antsy. "I fucking hate him. Why do we even do this?"

"Do what?" Steve responded quietly, checking on Peter, who was standing in front of them, silently playing Angry Birds on Steve's phone. Steve had hoped Tony would get over whatever had been plaguing him at home, but that didn't seem to be the case.

"Tell kids this mythical fucking creature brings them presents. Like why bother? Kids just end up getting hurt" Tony ranted as they stepped forward in line.

"Not every kid gets hurt Tony." Steve said, before it hit him. "Were you?"

"My dad told me flat out when I was four. Four! Why even do the Santa bullshit in the first place? That was the last time I ever trusted him" Tony hesitated for a second, then continued. "I don't want Peter to stop trusting me." he glanced down at his feet, and then back up at Steve.

Steve smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his husband's back. "Were you planning on telling him anytime soon?"

"I was, I mean I wanted to get it over with, but- I don't even know, Steve. I just don't want to be as shitty as my dad was."

"Tony-" Steve started, but as soon as he began speaking, he realized it was Peter's turn to see Santa. Tony and Steve both watched as Peter climbed into Santa's lap, whispering what Steve presumed was his Christmas list into the large man's ear. As soon as Peter was finished, Steve and Tony walked over to get him, but they were stopped by the photographer, who politely asked them to get in the picture. Tony started to walk even quicker, but Steve grabbed his arm and made him sit down on the large bench next to him.

"Tony..."

Tony rolled his eyes, but complied, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder and giving the camera the most forced smile Steve had ever seen.

As they were walking away, Steve leaned down to whisper in Tony's ear. "Santa told me that Peter asked for a robot building kit. Said he wanted to be just like his dad."

Steve watched as Tony's smile brightened. "Kid's after my own heart.


	5. Gingerbread House

Day 5- Gingerbread House

"Hey Pete, what're ya working on?" Tony ruffled his son's hair, leaning over his shoulder. "Me and Pops are decorating gingerbread houses!" Peter replied excitedly.

"Pops and I," Steve corrected with a smile. He had already eaten half the candy in the kit that was currently strewn across Peter's end of the table. Tony swiped his finger through some excess icing that was slowly dripping down the front of Peter's house, making sure to catch Steve's eye before licking it off. Steve glanced down, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"Stop that." he huffed under his breath, but Tony could see that the corners of his mouth were turned up. Tony smirked and pulled out a chair, plopping himself down and crossing his arms.

"So would someone care to explain why I, king of the gingerbread house, was not invited to this decorating extravaganza?"

"Pops said you would probably break something."

"Me? Break something? Steve, baby, I'm hurt. I'll have you know I'm practically a professional. People would pay good money for a Tony Stark gingerbread house."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Tony, when was the last time you actually touched a gingerbread house?"

Tony tapped his chin, pondering for a short moment. "I honestly don't remember. But I don't remember most of the nineties, that doesn't mean they didn't happen. For all you know I was the 1996 gingerbread champion, I just can't remember."

"Whatever you say, Tony." Steve said, trying to hide the smile in his voice. "There's a kit on the counter if you really want to make one."

"Heck yeah I wanna make one!" Tony said, getting up from his seat and strolling over to the counter. "In fact," he said, walking back over to the table and shaking the box in Steve's face. "I bet I can make one that's better than yours."

"Really Tony? You want to go there?" Steve asked.

"What, afraid of a little friendly competition?" Tony instigated playfully.

"Of course not," Steve began, "But I don't want to deal with the temper tantrum you'll have when you lose."

"Excuse you, but I do not throw temper tantrums. That often. You just don't want to accept the fact that I'll win."

"Oh, really, Mr. Stark? Since you're so arrogant, I guess I have to put you in your place." Steve chuckled. "I used to punch Hitler for a living. I think I can handle your gingerbread house."

"We'll see about that." Tony tore open the box and poured out the contents onto the table in front of him.

Two hours, fifteen handfuls of gumdrops and four bags of icing later, Tony and Steve sat across from each other, staring at the other's demolished gingerbread pile. Steve's was steaming slightly, and Tony's still faintly blinked with tiny Christmas lights. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither of them knowing what to say.

Finally, Tony broke the silence.

"Mine was better."


	6. Movies

A/N: so sorry we missed a day! another prompt should be up within the hour so look out for that one too :)

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Day 6- Movies

Tony Stark was sitting at his desk in the lab when a loud voice from the living room made him start.

"DAD, DO YOU WANNA WATCH A MOVIE WITH ME AND POPS?" Peter's voice echoed down the stairs. Tony smiled widely and got up from his desk, setting down his current project and walking up the stairs.

When he reached the top, he saw Peter getting scolded by Steve.

"Peter, when I ask you to go ask your dad something, I generally mean that you should actually go downstairs and ask him. You have to use your inside voice in the house, remember?"

Peter smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Pops…"

Tony walked up behind Peter and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Steve, don't yell at him for that. It worked, didn't it?" He smiled widely at his husband. "I don't see the problem."

Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a bad habit, Tony."

Tony patted Peter's head, and sent him to the couch to pick a movie. "Alright, but the next time you yell down the stairs to call me up for dinner, I'm going to ignore you." He sidled up next to Steve. "You'll just have to come down and get me yourself. And who knows what could happen then."

Steve draped his arms over Tony's shoulders. "What am I going to do with you?" He asked with a small smile.

Tony grinned widely. "I can think of a few things." He placed a kiss on Steve's jaw. Before Steve could reply, Peter whined from the couch, "Dads, hurry up. The movie's starting!"

Steve removed his arms and Tony sighed.

, "So what movie are we watching?" Steve asked as he and Tony sat on either side of Peter. The young boy smiled up at them as the screen flashed through the commercials. "Rudolph!"

-/-/-/-/-

47 minutes later, Steve moved to stand up and turn off the tv. Before he could, however, Peter grabbed his hand. "Just one more? Please, Pops?" He looked up at his father with wide puppy dog eyes. Steve looked at him, and then at Tony beside him, who was giving Steve a look identical to Pete's. Steve sighed. "Really, Tony? You too?"

"Why not? It's the weekend. Let the boy have some fun!"

Resignedly, Steve sat back down. "Fine. But just one more."

Having finished the latest movie, Tony looked out the window. The New York City skyline was lit up like a Christmas tree against the black sky. He stretched and yawned.

"What time is it?"

Steve glanced down at his watch. "9:46."

Tony's eyes widened. "Are you serious? How many movies have we watched?"

The blonde man counted quietly to himself. "Rudolph, Frosty, Nightmare Before Christmas, Elf, The Polar Express, Home Alone, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. That's, what, seven?"

"Damn." Tony's eyes scanned the living room. The empty bowl of popcorn kernels, the boxes from the pizza shop down the street, Peter's small, sleeping form curled up against Steve with his head on the man's leg. "I guess we should put him to bed."

Steve nodded, and groaned as he stood up with Peter in his arms. Leaning over the boy's head, he gave Tony a quick kiss. "After that, we need to put ourselves to bed, too."

Tony grinned tiredly. "I like the sound of that, Captain."


	7. Ice Skating

A/N: This is partially based on a true story, I (emma, one of two lovely authors of this story) actually have fallen and cut my leg open while skating, and let me tell you, it is the opposite of fun. Anyways, if you're reading this, you should leave a review, we'd really appreciate it! Even if you just leave one word, some feedback would be fantastic :)

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Day 7- Ice Skating

"Come on Tony," Steve called from his spot on the ice. "You're the one who wanted to go ice skating in the first place."

"No, I said that I hadn't been ice skating in years, in what way does that imply that I actually wanted to go?" Tony yelled back, crossing his arms and sitting down on a bench with a loud huff. He was not going to embarrass himself today.

"Please Dad!" Peter pleaded, stumbling a bit on the ice, and for a second Tony was afraid he was going to fall, but Steve gripped his hand a little tighter to steady him.

"Not today Pete," Tony replied with a wave of his hand. "maybe some other time. Or never. You and Pops seem to be having fun." Peter and Steve had already been around the ice a few times, Tony didn't understand what they needed him for.

"Daddy," Peter whined, and he definitely did not get that trait from Tony. "You'll have fun, I promise!"

"No thanks buddy." Tony said, feeling a little guilty, because Peter looked like he was going to cry.

"Seriously Tony, come on." Steve said and -oh shit- he actually sounded _angry_. "Can't you just put your ego aside for one day and do something without throwing a fit first?"

"Somebody ate their bitch flakes this morning." Tony mumbled to himself before raising his voice again. "Steve, I can't."

"What's the problem this time Tony, and don't you dare tell me you have issues with the ice..." Steve trailed off, glaring at Tony.

"No! No, it's nothing like that." Tony said quickly. "It's more of a problem with the skates."

"Oh my god, are you kidding me? You made us stop on the way here to get those stupid red and gold ones, now you're saying you don't like them?"

"Hey, these skates are cool, and I love them. I just-" Tony gestured for Steve to come closer before stepping toward the ice. Steve carefully maneuvered himself and Peter to the very edge of the rink, stopping directly in front of Tony. "I can't skate." he said quietly.

"You can't- didn't you say you've been skating before?" Steve questioned, all traces of anger in his voice replaced by mild skepticism

"Well yeah I've been skating before, I never said I was good. The first and only time I went skating, I made it around the ice once, then fell flat on my face and sliced my leg open with a skate, I mean seriously, who does that? Never again Steve, never again." Tony turned to go sit back on his bench and sulk, but before he could move, he felt something tug at the sleeve of his jacket. He flipped back around and stared down at Peter, who was looking back up at him with understanding eyes.

"Dad, don't feel bad, I couldn't skate either until Pops taught me. We can help you learn!"

"Heck, I couldn't skate well until after the serum, although I never managed to cut myself..." Steve said jokingly. Tony knew he said it just to get a rise out of him, but he smacked Steve on the arm anyways. "Go put your skates on" he laughed, giving Tony a subtle tap on the ass and smirking, and well, the Captain sure did know how to encourage him.

Tony walked back over to the bench, and kicked off his shoes, pulling his _awesome, totally not stupid, _red and gold skates out of the box and putting them on.

"Make sure you tie them tight around the ankles, if they're too loose you're more likely to fall." Steve advised. Tony made sure they were extra tight before carefully making his way over to the ice, stopping right before he got to the edge.

Gingerly, he put one foot onto the ice, then the other. For a second he lost his balance and nearly tipped backwards, but a large hand on his back caught him. Tony straightened up, feeling a little more reassured with Steve touching him.

"So Mr. Freeze, teach me the ways of your people." Tony said, snapping back into smartass mode.

Steve chuckled at Tony's patented brand of affection. "Okay, you ready?"

Tony nodded, but before they could do anything, Peter yelled "Wait!" The boy let go of Steve's hand, shuffling around the back of the two men before grabbing onto Tony's. " There, now we can both help you."

"Thanks Petey." Tony smiled, and he would have ruffled his son's hair if he hadn't been clinging to him and Steve for dear life.

"Ready now?" Steve asked again.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Slowly, Steve started to show him the motions of skating. At first, Tony was unsteady, but every time he thought he was going to fall, Steve caught him with an arm around his waist, and Peter looked up at him with encouraging eyes. After a few minutes, (only a few, they didn't call him a genius for nothing) Tony started to get the hang of it.

"I think you're ready to try skating on your own." Steve said, nodding approvingly at Tony's footwork. Tony immediately froze.

"I don't think I can Steve." Tony whispered, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.  
"I _know_ you can." Steve said, giving Tony a quick kiss on the cheek as he let go of his hand. "Peter and I will wait right here, just go around the ice once." Steve took Peter's hand again and guided them closer to the edge of the rink.

"Aye aye, Captain." Tony gulped, suddenly feeling very alone.

"I can't hear you!" Peter yelled from the sidelines.

"Aye aye Captain!" Tony yelled back. "But we're not singing the Spongebob theme song right now. I'm trying to focus."

He heard Peter giggle, and finally worked up the courage to start moving. He nearly tripped at first, but slowly and surely he gained momentum and began to sail around the rink. Tony made it all the way around, not once, not twice, but three times.

"You're doing great!" Steve called, encouraging Tony further.

He raised his arms above his head in victory- and promptly crashed to the ground, landing on his face.

"Tony! Are you okay?" Steve said, skating over to Tony.

"M'fine." Tony replied, lifting his face up off the ice. "It hurts though, you might have to kiss it."

Steve laughed before pulling Tony up, planting a short kiss on his lips. "Better?"

"Much better." Tony said, pulling him in for another.


	8. Candy Canes

And we started out so well... So, I know that we're a _few_ days late. Oops. Have two, and we will try to have the rest up soon. By the end of 2013 at least. Enjoy :)

"Hey Pete," Clint stepped into the living room carrying a plastic bag. "I brought you something!" he shook the bag and stood waiting for Peter to come running. He didn't have to wait for long; Peter popped up from behind the couch, dropping the StarkPad he had been playing on onto to the ground.

"Uncle Clint!" Peter exclaimed, nearly toppling over his own feet in an effort to get to Clint and his present.

"Woah, slow down kid," Clint said, grabbing the boy by the shoulder to steady him. "It's not that exciting. By no means is this your real Christmas present, but what kind of uncle would I be if I didn't show up without a little something for my favorite nephew? Not a cool one, that's for sure"

"You aren't a cool uncle anyway" Clint heard Tony snark from where he was lying on the couch. "And could you please keep it down? Some people are trying to get some rest over here, thanks." Tony rolled over and pressed his face in between the couch cushions.

"Rude." Clint said louder than he had been speaking before. He smirked as the genius groaned and shoved a throw pillow over his ears, flipping Clint off with his other hand. "Wow, extra rude, Stark. Your kid's in the room."

"Shut up Barton." Tony replied, words muffled by the couch. "Just go away."

"Come on Pete," Clint said, grabbing Peter's hand. "Let's go be cool somewhere else."

Peter giggled as Clint led him out of the living room and into the kitchen. The boy climbed up onto one of the chairs that were lined up against the marble countertop. Clint walked over to the cabinet where he knew they kept the cups and pulled out two.

"So, what's got your dad in such a bad mood?" he asked as he poured them both glasses of water. "Don't spill this." he added, handing Peter the drink and hoisting himself onto the counter.

"Pops said he's just grumpy 'cause he stayed up past his bedtime doing work." Peter said, halfway through a sip of his water.

Clint nearly snorted. "Guess your dad should stick to his bedtime, huh? I think he's getting a little too old to be staying up so late."

"Yeah, he is pretty old." Peter nodded in agreement.

"You should tell him that sometime. Remind him that old people need their sleep."

"Okay, I will!" Peter said brightly, and Clint couldn't suppress a laugh. "What's so funny?" Peter asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Nothing," Clint said, shaking his head. "Oh, before I forget." Clint picked up the shopping bag from where it had been sitting on the counter and handed it to Peter, who eagerly dumped its contents out in front of him.

"Candy canes!" Peter exclaimed, tearing open the plastic of one of the numerous boxes that Clint had picked up on his way to the tower. "Can I have one?"

"Of course, buddy." Clint smiled. "That's what I got them for."

"Thanks!" Peter said, quickly opening one. "Why did you get so many?" he asked, as soon as his mouth was full of candy cane.

"I dunno," Clint replied. "I figured we could decorate the tree with them or something."

"We haven't put up our Christmas tree yet."

"Oh," Clint said, tapping his chin in thought. "Well you could go see if your dad wants one. Maybe offering him candy will put him in a better mood."

"That's a good idea!" Peter said, grabbing one of the candy canes and hopping off the chair before making his way out of the kitchen. He was gone for less than a minute, walking back in the room a few seconds later, unopened candy cane still in tow.

"He didn't want it?" Clint asked, a little surprised. He had figured that even if Tony didn't really want the candy, he would have at least taken it for his son's sake.

"No... I think he's asleep." Peter said quietly, even though his dad was in the other room.

"Asleep? Are you sure?" Clint silently padded into the doorway of the living room, Peter following closely behind him. "Here, give me that." He held out his hand, and Peter placed the candy cane in his open palm. "Okay, now watch this." Clint whispered before flinging the candy cane at Tony, hitting him in the center of his back with a quiet smack. Tony shifted slightly, rolling from his side to his back, but he didn't say anything, and even from a distance Clint could see that his eyes were closed.

"Damn, he really was tired." Clint mumbled to himself before an idea popped into his head. "Hey Peter, I think I know what we can decorate instead."

As Tony began to stir, Clint slapped a hand over Peter's mouth. "Shh, don't say anything yet."

For a good hour and a half, Tony had been napping, and Clint and Peter had been amusing themselves. After Clint had checked that the exhausted Tony Stark wouldn't be waking up anytime soon (consisting mainly of poking him and saying things along the lines of, "Tony Stark is a big loser nerd."), he had grinned widely at Peter. "Ready?"

The young boy, while thoroughly confused, had smiled back at his uncle. "What are we going to do?"

Clint moved as quietly as he could back to the kitchen counter, grabbing the boxes of candy canes and carrying them back to Peter. He set the (alarmingly) large number of boxes down next to the boy, and silently instructed him to start opening them and pulling the canes out.

When every box was empty, Hawkeye motioned for Peter to grab as many as he could, and both boys moved across from the couch. Gently picking up one of the red striped canes, Clint bounced it in his hand before tossing it at Tony. The candy landed squarely on Tony's cheek. Clint and Peter promptly hid behind the nearest furniture as Tony groaned and mumbled in his sleep.

Reassured that Tony wouldn't be interrupting their game, Clint and Peter grinned mischievously at each other and continued, taking turns throwing candy canes at the napping Tony.

Now, with Tony on the verge of waking, Clint reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, whipping it out and snapping numerous pictures of the genius, covered in over fifty candy canes. Clint was on the verge of running away and leaving Tony to figure it what happened on his own when a door slammed from somewhere else in the tower. Tony's eyes opened, and he stared up at Clint and Peter.

Clint remained straight faced, but Peter gave out a small giggle, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Clint, what did you do?"

Hawkeye grabbed Peter and took off for the door as Tony sat up on the couch. Moments after, Tony heard the door to what he asked was Clint's room lock. The man sighed as Steve walked in with a book. The blonde stopped in the doorway and gave Tony a blank look, one eyebrow raised. His husband looked up at him, a sticky candy cane falling off his cheek and into his lap.

"What are you looking at?"


	9. Snuggling

Tony glanced at the digital clock beside Peter's bed as he tucked the young boy in and kissed his head. 8:42.

"Hey, you did a good job tonight buddy! There's still three minutes before bedtime."

Peter smiled triumphantly (albeit sleepily) up at Tony before turning over on his side, facing the window. Tony took this as an invitation to leave, so he walked to the door and stopped. He turned out the light and looked back at Peter. "Goodnight, Pete. Sleep tight."

Peter turned his head around slightly and replied, '"G'night, Daddy! I love you!"

Tony chuckled. "I love you too."

Closing the door behind him, Tony left the boy's room and made his way back down to the living room. As he walked through the hallway, Tony couldn't help but stop and look at the pictures on the wall. The majority were of Peter, of course, but there were quite a few of the dads, and even the other avengers. Some of Peter's better drawings had been framed and hung up beside the family portraits.

When Tony entered the living room, the only light came from the large fireplace. Outlined on the couch in front of it was the unmistakable figure of Steve. Tony smiled slightly. There was no one in this world or the next who would ever make him as happy as Steve Rogers. As though he could feel Tony thinking about him, Steve turned and looked at him over the back of the couch.

The glow from the fire framed his face and have him a gpolden halo. Tony walked just a little bit faster to the other side of the couch, where he settled comfortably next to Steve. The larger man wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving Tony space to lean into his embrace (A/N I apologize for my unintentional rhyme). Steve leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to the top of Tony's head.

Both men sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sounds they could hear were the crackle of burning wood in the fireplace and each other's steady breathing. Even the city that never sleeps seemed to have quieted down.

Tony was in the process of dozing off, his head on Steve's broad chest, when he heard (or rather felt) Steve mutter happily, "Would you look at that."

While he quite enjoyed his current position, Tony's curiosity got the better of him, and he sat up with a groan. "What are we looking at?"

Steve grinned at his sleepy husband, reaching out to grab his chin and direct his face towards the window, where a heavy snowfall had begun. While there was a great amount of snow coming down, the descent was gentle, and was beautifully illuminated by the city lights.

Tony's gaze slid from the white fluff coating the city to Steve. The larger man somehow managed to simultaneously look serene and peaceful, and have the air of an excited child at the first snow of the year. Tony suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of love for this man, this wonderful man who he had promised to spend the rest of his life with. And even though he was Tony Stark, in that moment, he had no doubt in his mind that that was a promise worth keeping.


End file.
